Filling in the Blanks
by Clara Meliza
Summary: A collection of Gale/Katniss one-shots.
1. Introductions

**Disclaimer:** This story is a work of fiction. "The Hunger Games" and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Synopsis:** Gale and Katniss' first meeting, from his point of view.

* * *

"We meet no ordinary people in our lives."

C.S. Lewis

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**Chapter One:** **Introductions**

* * *

The first time Gale Hawthorne met Katniss Everdeen, he thought she was stealing from him. Up until that point, he'd believed he had been all alone—just him and the woods. Nobody dared to venture off district grounds, so it came as a shock, finding some scrawny little girl poking at his state-of-the-art twitch-up snares.

"That's dangerous," he said, materializing from behind a tree, causing her to jump several feet away from him. If he hadn't been so sure he'd just been robbed—after all, she was carrying a dead squirrel from her belt and no way could she have killed that on her own—he probably would have found her unease somewhat amusing.

(The fact that he found anything amusing was a miracle in itself. Ever since his father died, Gale hadn't found many things worth laughing about.)

His gray eyes drank in her appearance. Her olive skin and dark hair was an obvious indicator that she was Seam folk, so he'd most likely seen her around there before. She wasn't particularly pretty, frown lines already developing on her adolescent face, but something about her intrigued Gale; made him want to know more.

"What's your name?" he asked, crossing the distance between them and releasing the lifeless rabbit from the intricate contraption. The other three hanging from his belt would hopefully put enough food on the table for his mother and two younger brothers, giving him the freedom to trade the other two snare-imprisoned animals for some cloth for his newborn baby sister. Posy had spit up all over her well-worn onesie the night before and he wanted to surprise his mother with the gift.

"Catnip," the girl answered, barely audible.

He had little time to think about what a strange name she had before answering, "Well, Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?"

A hint of a scowl formed at her lips. "Katniss," she corrected him, her voice stronger than before. "And I wasn't stealing it. I just wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything."

Gale frowned down at her, unconvinced. He zeroed in on the game hanging from her belt. "So where'd you get the squirrel?"

The girl—Katniss—retrieved something from her shoulder. "I shot it," explains Katniss, holding an over-sized bow in her hands. Gale's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon.

_How the hell did _she_ get _that_?_ he wondered, slightly bewildered. Knives were the only weapons that Peacekeepers allowed them to have, given that they didn't use them against each other, and even that was a rarity amongst the population of District Twelve. Gale kept one, despite his mother's protests. How the little girl managed to get her hands on a bow and arrow was beyond him. "Can I see that?"

Katniss handed it over. "Just remember, stealing's punishable by death."

He hadn't smiled—really, _truly_ smiled—in such a long time, the action came as a shock to him. Sure, he put on a brave front for his mother and his younger siblings, laughing at all the right moments and returning the grins aimed towards him. But it all felt so forced, so unbelievably _fake_. Until then.

They talked hunting next. She promised him a bow of his own if he had something useful to trade in return. Not food, though. Gale was clueless on what he could possibly give her if she refused the one thing he was capable of getting. Katniss, noticing his dilemma, decided to give him a hint. "Knowledge?" he had questioned, incredulous. "What kind of knowledge?"

She wanted to set her own snares that caught a belt of fat rabbits in only a day or two. He agreed that something could be worked out. Arrangements were made for them to meet after school the next day. And as they turned away from each other, headed in separate directions, Gale remembered something:

"I'm Gale, by the way."

Katniss just kept walking.

* * *

"I won't be home for dinner tomorrow night," Gale started, conversationally, as he sat down at the head of their kitchen table. Hazelle was busy washing another load of some rich Townie's laundry and the kids were outside playing, having been kicked out after accidentally breaking a stack of plates that had been sitting on the counter.

"Oh?" his mother responded, failing to look up from her work. "Why is that?"

"I saw a girl in the woods today," he told her. Hazelle's head snapped up immediately, her eyes wide as saucers. Her hands were covered with suds and she moved to wipe them on the front of her apron. Gale took this as an invitation to continue. "We're meeting up after school. She has a bow I can use."

Hazelle said nothing. He knew she didn't approve of his illegal activities, worried for his safety and afraid of what could happen if he was caught, but knew better than to voice her opinion out loud. His hunting, along with her well-quipped laundry business, were the only things that kept their large family afloat. If he didn't do his part, they would starve. And Gale wouldn't let that happen. Not in a million years.

She turned back to her metal tub, her raw hands shaking lightly as she picked up another article of clothing. "Be careful, Gale," she told him, squeezing the water from what looked to be a little girl's dress and rubbing it against the ridged surface of her washboard.

"Aren't I always?" he questioned, a slight smirk on his lips. The look Hazelle shot him said otherwise.

"Only fourteen years old and exactly like his father," she muttered, mostly to herself. Hazelle painted a stern expression on her face before adding, "I mean it, Gale."

He crossed the distance between them and kissed her on the cheek. "You worry too much, Ma."

"I'm your mother," said Hazelle, jokingly. "It's my job to worry."

"Yeah, well," he countered, "it's my job to put food on the table."

Hazelle opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sudden cry coming from the back of their house. Hazelle looked like she wanted to say more on the matter, but was forced to attend to her unhappy daughter. Gale had never been so grateful for his little sister in his entire life.

_Saved by the wail,_ Gale thought, cheekily, as he watched his mother disappear from sight.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I've been meaning to write a Gale/Katniss fic for a while now and I wanted to play around with a bunch of scenarios that could have happened, but we never got to see. Some, much like this chapter, are just book-inspired sequences written from Gale's point of view. If you have any prompts or missing scenes in mind, please feel free to send them my way. I've come up with about thirty or so and need all the help I can get.


	2. Suck it Up, Hawthorne

**Disclaimer: **This story is a work of fiction. "The Hunger Games" and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Synopsis: **A petty argument.

* * *

"The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off."

Gloria Steinem

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**Chapter Two: ****Suck it Up, Hawthorne**

* * *

Her arrow zips through the air, bringing an impressed smile to his lips. "Nice shot, Catnip."

She scowls at the use of her beloved nickname. "For the last time, Gale," she all but growls, fetching her arrow from the rabbit's bloodied corpse, "my name is _Katniss_."

He shrugs indifferently and ventures further into the darkening forest, the sunset his personal way of telling the time. Hazelle would want him home in an hour or so. After setting a few more traps, he decides, "Let's head back."

They walk towards the fence, heavy game bags slung over their shoulders. Silence penetrates the air. Katniss decides to break it. "Here," she says, retrieving a squirrel from her belt. She grabs a hold of the tail, letting it hang between them, and waits for him to protest. "You need it more than I do."

There is nothing Gale hates more than charity (except maybe the Capitol, but that's beside the point). He pushes her hand away in disgust. "It's yours," he spits. "You shot it, you keep it."

Katniss stands tall and ceases to back down, shoving the mangled animal back in his direction. Her refusal to flinch away from his harsh tone is one of the main reasons he likes her. She doesn't tolerate his bullshit. "I have more at home. Prim doesn't eat that much, anyway." She sighs. "Just take it, Gale."

He stares at the squirrel, wanting nothing more than to snatch it from her waiting hands and send the kids to bed with full stomachs, their bellies lacking their usual growl. _Swallow your damn pride, Gale,_ his conscience tells him. _She's only trying to help._

Like most Seam folk, Gale hates owing people. It's every man for himself, with the exception of family, and he'd thought Katniss felt the same way. Somewhere down the line, he would have to sacrifice one of his kills in order to even the playing field. Gale isn't sure he is willing to continue a partnership with this tactic in mind.

Katniss stands before him, the carcass hanging from her bloodied fingertips. She forces him to meet her eyes. "Listen, Gale." She thrusts the squirrel in his direction. He accepts it wordlessly, her icy glare causing his protests to remain stuck in his throat. "I don't like owing people any more than you do, but we're partners now."

With that, she turns on her heel and heads in the direction of Town. The sun had disappeared just minutes ago, a full moon taking it's place, and their families are probably worried about them. Over her shoulder, she adds, "Suck it up, Hawthorne."

He follows after her like a good little puppy, his tail between his legs.

* * *

People from the Seam are known for their rather strong stomachs. Where food is rarity amongst its population, any food is cherished to utmost edibility. From Greasy Sae's unpleasant concoctions to not having anything to eat at all, you learn to appreciate what's given to you. "Are you sure you're not hungry, Katniss?" asks Prim, eying her empty bowl.

She shakes her head. "I'm fine, Prim. Now eat your dinner."

Their mother sits across from them, looking as catatonic as usual. Her eyes are those of a corpse. They've been that way for so long that they barely notice it anymore. Surprisingly enough, Helena Everdeen made it to the dinner table without much of a fight. It usually takes a lot more coaxing—mostly on Prim's part, as Katniss has all but given up on her—but tonight is an exception. Katniss refuses to get her hopes up.

Prim brings a metal spoon to her lips, her eyes never loosing concern for her older sister. Katniss ignores her gaze. She spends the next half hour trying to get her mother to eat, a task that she has little patience for but is forced to do. When she manages to wheedle a good portion of the stew into her, Katniss slurps down what is left of it. It isn't much.

She stands from her chair and begins to collect the dishes. From her position in front of the sink, she listens as Prim starts luring their mother in the direction of her bedroom. "Come on, mommy," soothes Prim. "Let's get you to bed."

Katniss joins them ten minutes later. Helena is lying on a bed opposite from theirs, already fast asleep. Prim is petting her hair. "She's getting better, Katniss," she whispers, careful not to wake her, "I just know it."

"I'll believe it when I see it," mutters Katniss, mostly to herself. The saddened look on her little sister's face indicates that she heard ever word. She plasters on a fake smile and tries to look optimistic. "Oh, Prim, you're right. She'll be back to new in no time."

She hates lying to her. Katniss keeps telling herself that it's for her own good, that she can't handle the truth. For all she knew, their mother could end up like this for the rest of their lives. "Ignorance is bliss, Kitkat," her father used to say. She never really understood what it meant. Until now.

They change into their night clothes and Katniss grabs a brush from the night stand. It was from her mother's Merchant days, one of the few things she brought over when she left that part of her life behind. She begins to unwind Prim's twin braids, humming the lyrics to a lullaby under her breath.

After a few minutes of Katniss combing through her hair, Prim's eyes start to droop. Katniss reaches over and blows out the wax candle that Prim made for her last month. "Goodnight, Katniss," she hears her whisper into the darkness.

She does the same to her own braid, letting her long hair form a halo above her head as she rests it against her pillow. Her sister's evened breathing is an indication that she is no longer conscious, but that doesn't keep Katniss from saying, "Goodnight, little duck."

Katniss is unable to fall asleep, her stomach so emptied that it begins digesting itself. She replays the day's events in her head as a way of distracting herself from the incessant growling noises coming from her lower abdomen.

She isn't sure why she did what she did. It's not like she's a genuinely giving person, because she isn't. Not even in the slightest. But Prim had made a habit of inviting Gale's younger brother, Rory, over after school and Katniss couldn't help but notice how gaunt he was. She decided—right then and there—that she would slip her partner an additional squirrel or two the next time they went hunting—even if it meant sacrificing her own dinner. After all, he has two more siblings than she does and it's only fair that he gets a little extra in return.

He, of course, didn't take it as well as she would have liked, but that's to be expected. Seam folk are taught from birth to not accept things from others, no matter how sincere the person may be. She probably would have acted the same way, if not worse. A brief image of her throwing a squirrel in his face crosses her mind before she shakes it away.

* * *

******Author's Note: **Mrs. Everdeen was named after Shakespeare's character Helena from the play _All's Well that Ends Well_, who, using the medicine that her father developed, saves the King from his probable death and in return gets to choose her husband.


	3. Lady

**Disclaimer:** This story is a work of fiction. "The Hunger Games" and all its characters are property of Suzanne Collins and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Synopsis:** Gale and Katniss buy Prim's birthday present.

* * *

"Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," I say.

"Yes, of course I was referring to that, not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping," says Peeta drily.

Suzanne Collins, _The Hunger Games_

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**Chapter Three: Lady**

* * *

There is a clock on the wall of his Capitol History classroom, and it seems to be moving at an even slower pace than usual. As his teacher, Mr. Wellwood, drones on and on about the past presidents of Panem, all Gale Hawthorne can think about is the dark-haired, gray-eyed girl studying mathematics down the hall. Earlier in the day, she approached him at his locker and asked if they could hit the woods immediately after the final bell rang. Prim's tenth birthday is tomorrow, and she wants to trade enough game for a decent present. He agreed to her request—no questions asked.

"Mr. Hawthorne," the teacher addresses him, interrupting his staring contest with the clock, "is there somewhere else you need to be?"

He is given a look that indicates Mr. Wellwood can have this arranged. After-school detention is not an activity he would like to take part in if he plans on hunting with Katniss later. Shaking his head, Gale says, "No, sir," and tries his best to pay attention to the rest of the lesson.

The lecture lasts ten more achingly long minutes before the little hand on the three claims he's free to go. Squeezing himself from a desk built more for Posy's size than his own, he slings his tattered back-pack over his shoulder and finds her leaning against a broken water fountain, arms crossed over her chest. He gives her a slight nod, which she returns, and together they head off in the direction of the fence.

Once they safely slide under the unelectrified barrier, Gale checks the snare line while Katniss searches for herbs and other things found in her father's plant book. Both come back disappointed, carrying no more than their usual everyday haul, aware of the fact that—split between the two of them—there is only enough to keep their families fed for the night, and nothing extra to trade for the youngest Everdeen sister.

Katniss is clearly frustrated with their lack of findings. "We'll do better tomorrow, Catnip, I promise," he tries to assure her, but this does little to help, as a scowl is permanently etched across her face. Gale has only ever seen her smile when she's in the woods, and now that they have seemingly betrayed her, he wonders if he'll ever see it again.

They take a moment to rest by the stream, game bags lying in the grass at their sides, when a young buck miraculously emerges from the tree line. Gale has hardly enough time to register what's happening before sending an arrow through the animal's chest, along with a second dart sticking from his neck—Katniss' doing, no doubt. They must have fired in the same instant. A small part of him—way, way deep down—feels remorseful for killing such an innocent creature, but as he takes in the deer's speckled pelt and the fresh meat underneath it, nothing stops him from slitting the poor bull's throat.

They've been hunting partners for years now, and Gale and Katniss have brought down only two deer—this one being the second so far. Their first kill had an injured leg and hardly counted, and they stupidly dragged the carcass into the Hob—completely unaware of what might happen—where all hell broke loose. People began bidding on parts and some even tried to hack pieces off themselves. Luckily, Greasy Sae intervened and sent them (and what was left of their deer) to the butcher, but it had already been damaged to the point of devalue.

This time, they know better. Katniss must be thinking the same as him, because as soon as the thought enters his brain, she says, "We'll wait until dark and meet Rooba at her back door."

He nods his head in agreement. Their illegal activities outside the district are somewhat of an open secret, but it's not exactly a smart move to drag a hundred-pound deer through the streets of District Twelve, in broad daylight, for everyone to see. While their intentions are clearly genuine, officials might see it as bragging and actually turn on the fence for once—and that's a risk neither are willing to take.

There's a hole in the fence close to the butcher's warehouse, and Gale starts dragging the buck in that direction, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Katniss' silent, barely-there footsteps follow him through the woods as they maneuver themselves past fallen branches and hidden logs that can be easily tripped over, the sounds of each other's breathing their only form of communication.

As they wait for the blazing sun to disappear and a crescent moon to take its place, Katniss ventures off to hunt a flock of birds that are settling in for the night. She comes back with four pheasants in tow, pocketing two and giving him the rest. By the time they have finished dividing their findings, it's well after dark and the coast is clear—they shove the deer through the gap in the fence and run like hell toward Rooba's.

The butcher, a short, stocky woman named Rooba, comes to the back door in only her nightgown—clearly upset to have been woken up from her slumber. She takes one look at the deer dangling between them, Gale holding an antler in one hand and Katniss doing the same with the other, and gives them a price. No one haggles with Rooba. They take her offer and she throws in a few venison steaks for good measure.

Rooba carries the buck inside, where it will be united with some of his butchered wildlife friends, and returns with numerous rows of coins fresh from the cash register. She hands them the money before promptly slamming the door in their faces.

Even with the money split in half, neither has held so much at one time. Growing up in the slums of District Twelve, there is very little opportunity to pocket such a large sum, and this is a new experience for both of them. Katniss stares down at her portion with a relieved smile on her face. She can finally afford to buy Prim's birthday present.

"Let's keep this a secret, okay, Catnip?" he suggests, stuffing his earnings in the pocket of his well-worn jeans, and she does the same. "We'll surprise our families with everything tomorrow."

"Okay," she agrees.

Game bags slung casually over their shoulders, they head back in the direction of the Seam.

* * *

It's late afternoon, and Gale and Katniss are at the Town market.

Though she would never voice her thoughts aloud, his mother is in desperate need of cloth for a new dress, and Gale is running his fingers down a patch of thick cotton when he hears someone whisper his name. He looks up to find Katniss staring at a small herd of goats from across the square, and as he follows her line of sight, one of them—a white goat with black patches—seems to catch her eye. "I want that goat for Prim," she declares.

The goat she wants is lying down in a cart, presumably injured. "She's hurt pretty bad," says Gale, taking in the animal's mauled shoulder and the aura of sickness that appears to surround her. "We better take a closer look."

With their newfound wealth, they buy themselves a cup of milk and stand over the doe in faux-curiosity. The Goat Man—who has a name, except no one calls him by it—notices their interest in his livestock. "Let her be," he intervenes.

"Just looking," replies Gale, his palms facing outward in defense.

The Goat Man has an annoyed look on his face. "Well, look fast," he barks. "She goes to the butcher soon. Hardly anyone will buy her milk, and then they only pay half price."

"What's the butcher giving for her?" asks Katniss.

Shrugging, the man says, "Hang around and see." They turn and watch as Rooba barrels toward them, clad in her usual bloody apron and hair-net, nightgown nowhere in sight. "Lucky thing you showed up," the Goat Man says to her when she arrives, and then points at Katniss. "Girl's got her eye on your goat."

"Not if she's spoken for," protests Katniss.

The butcher stares them up and down before frowning at the goat, as if she hadn't known about the animal's injury beforehand. "She's not. Look at that shoulder." Rooba clicks her tongue. "Bet you half the carcass will be too rotten for even sausage."

"What?" sputters the Goat Man, growing angrier by the second. "We had a deal."

"We had a deal on an animal with a few teeth marks." Rooba gestures to the goat. "Not that thing. Sell her to the girl if she's stupid enough to take her." As she marches off, Gale catches her send an exaggerated wink in their direction.

It takes them half an hour to agree on the price. No doubt is the animal on death's door, as infection has started to set in, and Gale supposes this can go one of two ways: Katniss can waste her money on the goat only for it to die, or her mother and Prim—the best doctors District Twelve has to offer—can work their healing magic and leave a gold mine on their hands. Groups of people gather around, voicing their opinions on the matter, which soon escalates into a full-blown argument. Sides are taken, and so is the goat.

Katniss tries—and fails—to wrestle the hundred-pound animal into her arms. "Here," offers Gale, chuckling at her expense. "Let me take her."

They walk down the dirt road that leads to the Seam, and Gale has never seen her so happy. There's a small smile on her face, and they're not even in the woods. "Prim'll go berserk when she sees her," she predicts.

"She sure likes her animals, doesn't she?" he questions, remembering the time when Katniss brought little Primrose out hunting with them. Needless to say, there is only one hunter left among the Everdeens, and it isn't the blond-haired, blue-eyed healer-in-training from the Seam. "It must run in the family. That lynx couldn't seem to get enough of you, _Catnip_."

Katniss remains unfazed by his teasing, and in a moment of complete giddiness, buys a pink ribbon from the Hob to tie around the goat's neck. She steps back to admire her handiwork. "If you look past her mauled shoulder and all that pus, she's actually kind of cute," compliments Katniss, despite looking a bit green in the face.

With every step they take toward the Everdeen residence, he finds himself looking forward to Prim's reaction just as much as she is. Prim isn't his anything, really—she's just the person his hunting partner loves more than anything in the world, and he's got three other siblings waiting for him at home, anyway, but when they make it to her front porch and she opens her door and doesn't immediately shut it behind her, he accepts her silent invitation and joins the party of three.


End file.
